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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Reflections on 38 Years

Today I am 38. Some days I feel not a day over 20. Others, I feel 80. This is aging, I guess. Where you look back and think, "How did I get here? I can't possibly be this old." I'm getting closer to 40 (which, for the record, I don't fear), and this makes me think a little about where I have been and where I'm going. I'm not where I thought I'd be when I was a kid, or ten or even five years ago. But where I am is pretty good . . . and I need to remember what I have done, instead of kicking myself for what I haven't yet.

I've been to Europe, but not Asia. There's much of the world that I still haven't seen. But I will.

I've met a President, a pop star, an Academy Award Winner, and a Supreme Court Justice (two, actually), but not Cher. She continues to elude me, but she's still kicking and so I am.

I've learned the value of sunscreen, a comfortable pair of shoes, expensive olive oil, and nice champagne. They're worth paying for in a way that expensive sunglasses, underwear, and cell phones are not.

I've ridden a horse, an elephant, and a camel, but never flown on a trapeze. With a complex for doing that not too far from home, there really is no excuse.

I've had a mamogram, a sonogram, an MRI, but not a colonoscopy. Because I'm not that old. Yet.

I've found the love of my life. And I'm definitely not done with that yet. I can't wait to be to crotchety old folks together.

I've cultivated a village of the most wonderful, thoughtful, loving friends and family anyone could ask for -- and even though that says much about them, I have to remember what it says about me. And be proud of it.

I've learned not to take myself too seriously (most of the time). But I'm still learning that it doesn't always have to be perfect -- because flaws can be funny.

I own property! Which is probably why I have many of the grey hairs on my head. But it's mine (ours) and I love it.

I've fallen in love with the written word and books. Including my own, which I have not yet managed to write. But it's in there.

I've laughed and cried and loved. And there's so much more of that ahead of me, I can only hope that the tears are from joy more than from sorrow.

I've done a lot, but there's a lot more to do, so if you'll excuse me, I'd better get going. There are things I want to accomplish today . . .